Bitterly Unrequited
by CrazyWriterChick
Summary: When Severus Snape is rejected by Lily Evans as a teenager, it sets him on a journey of events that changes the course of his entire life. This is his story of revenge, depression, and redemption.
1. Rejection

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 1 - Rejection_

**Spoilers and warnings: **This story has a few HBP spoilers, and tons of OotP spoilers. Just to let you know. This story is very angsty and quite dark, focusing on the psychological development of Severus Snape throughout his life, and it does contain suicide attempts, self-abuse, and eventually murder. You have been warned.

**As of July 26, 2007: **I've decided to come back to this story, after abandoning it around ten million and three times. There may be a few Deathly Hallows spoilers, but for the most part I'm pretending it doesn't exist for the sake of this story, because so much about Snape was revealed that it'd be ridiculous to try and rewrite things to be accurate with it. Therefore, I'm ignoring a lot of it, and that is intentional. I'm going to go back through and edit a lot of the story that was less well-written and do some much-needed revising. Just to let any readers I may still have know )

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

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He lurked broodingly in the corner, watching his students walk to their next class. An amused smirk crossed his face as he saw Harry Potter and Ginny Weasely walking down the corridor together, hand in hand. They were ever so sickeningly sweet, so atrociously adorable - it would be almost unbearable, had it been less amusing to see the legendary Potter going doe-eyed over some silly girl._

"But after all," _a part of him said, _"they are only fifteen or sixteen...you too had your share of sighing obsessions at that age, no matter how much you wish to deny it."

_But his Hogwarts years were a time he refrained from thinking about when at all possible._

_With a small kiss, Harry and Ginny parted ways, going to their separate classes. The Potter boy, he firmly told himself, did not interest him in the slightest, for he'd watched the boy grow over the years into his inheritance as an arrogant brat. He found himself instead looking at the Weasely girl. He had tried never to compare Ginny to her before, but the similarities were undeniable...Ginny was even excellent at Potions, just like her, though he'd never admit it. She was full of spunk, of life, her eyes full of fun and compassion, her hair that exact same shade of auburn that he had loved over twenty years ago..._

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It was spring in his fifth year, the day before before their O.W.L. exams began. Severus Snape watched Lily Evans walking with her group of girlfriends, absolutely entranced by every move she made. She soon parted from her friends, heading down to the dungeons for her Potions class. He followed her softly, knowing she could not hear him, knowing that he was practically invisible to her. 

Potions had always been Severus's favorite class. He and Lily were, according to Professor Slughorn, two of the best potions-brewers Hogwarts had seen in a few centuries. The class also provided an excellent opportunity for James Potter to show what an idiot he truly was, which was always extremely pleasant. But above all, he and Lily were often assigned to work together, as they were at the top of their class.

Lily Evans was, he had decided over four years ago, the epitome of a perfect girl. She was absolutely gorgeous, with that thick, auburn hair that fell in waves down her shoulders, those piercingly beautiful green eyes he always felt himself falling into...but there was more to his affection than merely her beauty. He admired her and looked up to her as he had never respected anyone before. She was the first, the only person to ever truly accept him as a friend, she had always been kind and sweet to him. He felt he could talk to her, open up to her. She was caring in a world that hated him, and it was natural, therefore, that his feelings could turn from just friendship...he wouldn't be able to truly live without her, of that he was sure.

Lily was about to enter the dungeon when he called out to her. "Excuse me, Lily...could I talk to you for a moment?"

Her brow furrowed in surprise. "Of course, Sev," she replied, "but we'll be late for Potions..."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you really think that Slughorn would even dream of repremanding either of _us_ for being late?"

She laughed. "That's highly unlikely, I suppose," she replied, following him as he led her down the corridor, a small, nervous smile in his dark eyes. He pulled her away from the door of the Potions class, where no one would overhear them, by chance or otherwise.

"Err, Lily," he began, nervously pushing his long black locks out of his eyes, his heart pounding. "I was wondering...since next weekend is Hogsmeade weekend, if you would like to go...y'know, with me...to eat dinner or..."

He was staring at her, silently imploring her to say yes, but she was looking away. With anyone else, it would have appeared to be a small matter, but she knew him - an invitation to dinner from Severus was practically his profession of undying love. He never spoke in terms of emotions, she'd known that for years, and he resorted to this to make his feelings known. She took a deep breath, praying he'd take it well. "Just as friends?" she asked silently, already knowing the answer - she had seen the way he had always looked at her, known that he internally worshipped her.

He did not reply. He looked away from her quickly as a cold, emotionless mask quickly coating his face - a mask Lily had seen on him all too often. She looked back up at him, her eyes compassionate. "I'm so sorry, Severus," she said, "but I...I don't want things to be different between us, and I..." She glanced back down the hall as Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and lastly, James Potter entered the dungeon for Potions, her wide eyes lingering for a moment too long on the last of the party.

He glanced up at her, anger undisguised in his eyes. "So," he sneered bitterly, "you choose that imbecile Potter?"

"Please," she said, looking close to tears, "please don't take it that way, Severus - you're a wonderful friend and truly brilliant, really - think of all the potions and spells you've created, and you're not even past your O.W.L.s yet! You're an absolute genius, really, and it has nothing to do with you, really...it's more me that's the problem..."

"Save your pity, Lily," he interrupted, disgust and contempt coating his voice. "I have neither want nor need of it. Don't waste another second thinking about the brillantly undatable Severus. Now, I do believe you're late for Potions."

With that, he turned and walked away, walking straight past the classroom. Lily stood, defeated, for a moment, then walked slowly into her class.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Professor Slughorn..."

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He stood in the Prefects' bathroom, looking in the mirror. He wasn't crying, he wouldn't cry - crying showed sadness, sadness was an emotion, emotions showed weakness, and he _would not_ be weak. He stared, disgusted, at the appaling form in the mirror. He was altogether too thin...he rarely ate, simply because food held no particular appeal for him. His skin was far too pale...he hated sunlight. He pawed angrily at the greasy locks that refused to stay out of his eyes. He glared in the mirror at the disgusting, portruding nose that seemed to him to cover half of his face... 

He slowly took out his wand, still staring at the gross, offensive creature reflected in the mirror. He pulled up his robe's sleeve, looking at the pale, bare flesh of his left arm, and pointed his wand at it. He murmured the spell he had created for this one purpose, "_Sectumsempra._"

Blood came out of his arm like a red river - beautiful, perfect, self-atoning blood...he lived for the sight of this blood, streaming down his pale arm so gracefully. It hurt like hell, but that didn't matter - nothing mattered in the end, as long as he bled. He depended on this sight of blood flowing on his arms to survive. He muttered the spell over and over again, slashing open different parts of his arms, watching the blood...

Trembling, he turned his arm over and held the wand at his wrist. If he used the spell on his vein, he would die, and fairly quickly...he couldn't...the thoughts raced...he wouldn't be able to stay conscious much longer with the blood flowing that quickly from his arm...of course, the spells had not hit anywhere near a vein, but with so many cuts, he was losing blood quickly...

He faintly saw a fair-haired boy rush to his side, and then his world was overtaken by blackness.

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He awoke a few minutes later with a numb aching in his left arm. Remus Lupin was kneeling beside him, a concerned look on his face. "Snape, are you all right? You...you lost quite a bit of blood." His voice wavering. 

"It's nothing," Snape said shortly, noticing, as he sat up, that the wounds on his arm had all healed over but for a few white raised scars and the blood on his robes and skin had vanished - a clever bit of Charm work from Lupin, he assumed.

"What happened?" asked the other boy softly, his grey eyes steadily watching the thin boy.

"I was testing out a new spell I had read about," he lied coldly, a fixed, emotionless mask again taking over his face, "and it didn't work correctly and backfired on me."

"Severus," said Remus quietly, "when I walked in, you had your wand pointed at your wrist, covered in blood...that doesn't seem like a backfiring spell to me."

"And how the hell is it your business, Lupin?" he shot angrily. He stood up, drawing himself to his full height, a full two or so inches shorter than the other. "You will not repeat what you saw to anyone - not to Potter or Black or Pettigrew...or you _will_ suffer my displeasure." He began to leave the bathroom, then said, his voice rather muffled, "And you will not mention this to Lily."

This didn't matter - Lily didn't matter. Nothing really mattered, now...

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A/N: Please review...I'm always glad to hear any kind of comments, good or bad. I highly appreciate constructive criticism. Thanks...and I hope that wasn't too unbelievably depressing...although that is sort of the point. Anyway, review. 


	2. Torment

Bitterly Unrequited

Chapter 2 - Torment

Spoilers and warnings: This story has a few HBP spoilers, and tons of OotP spoilers. Just to let you know. This story is very angsty and quite dark, and it does contain suicide attempts, self-abuse, and eventually murder. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

A/N: This chapter is really a retelling of the chapter in Order of the Phoenix called "Snape's Worst Memory," a memory Harry views in the Pensieve. A lot of the dialogue is straight from the book - however, I really think it's important to the story to see Snape's thought process through the scene. So, here we are...

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The next day brought the extreme comfort of preoccupation. The Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. exam was taking place, and it left no room for thoughts of Lily Evans. The test in itself was ridiculously easy - he wrote approximately twice as much as his classmates on all of the questions, sure of all his answers. When the test was over, he took his question sheets and went outside, sitting by a cluster of large bushes and rereading them, forcing himself to focus on the questions rather than think of the rejection and humiliation of yesterday. 

He found his attention wavering soon, however. He glanced over beneath a neighboring tree, where Potter's gang had settled. Lupin was, as always, reading something or other; Black was sitting there, attempting to look beautifully scornful and coming off as idiotic; Pettigrew was staring in awe of Potter, who was arrogantly releasing and catching a Snitch - that git was always showing off with that damn ball. This was the idiot that Lily was secretly enamored with...he didn't deserve her...

What do I care who she chooses to bestow her doting obsession on? he thought angrily. It's none of my affairs what she does...

He tried putting her out of his mind, but it was to no avail. He irritably stowed his papers in his school bag and began to walk off, but soon he noticed Sirius and Potter coming after him. He pretended he didn't see them, deciding ignoring them was the best policy, and continued walking until the two behind him chose to finally speak.

"All right, Snivellus?" said James contemptuously, using the derisive name he seemed to find amusing.

He had been ready - he threw off the bag from his shoulder and grabbed his wand, but James had already disarmed him before he could properly get his wand out. He was defenseless - Sirius quickly took advantage of the fact, jinxing him and bringing him to the ground when he reached to recover his wand.

He had become a public spectacle by now - it seemed half the school's students were crowding around, most jeering at him, laughing and applauding Potter and Black. They continued to taunt him, getting the crowd's approval with every good jeer, teasing and degrading him with all their energy. "His nose was touching the parchment; there'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word..."

He was still bound by the hex they had cast, glaring up at his tormentors...this heartless wretch was the one that Lily glanced at so inconspicuously, who she smiled at the thought of...

"You wait..." he breathed up at them, absolute loathing etched in his face. "You...wait..."

They jeered at this last comment, making more comments on his naturally oily skin. "Damn you, you bloody bastards, you wait, I swear you'll fucking pay for this...Impedimenta...Tarantallegra...Expelliarmus...Serpentsortia...Accio wand, damn it all..."

His curses were all to no avail, though, as his wand was feet away. Black made some sort of comment Snape didn't find worthy of his attention. At once, he felt himself gagging and choking on the bubbles of soap that had appeared in his mouth, attempting to spit them out, only to find them renewed every time he succeeded...until he heard a voice, that angelic voice he had so longed to hear...

"Leave him alone!" Lily was rushing to him, pushing the heartless bystanders out of her path. She was glaring at Potter, absolutely disgusted with his behavior. "What's he done to you?" she demanded sharply.

James laughed a cool, harsh laugh. "Well, it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean..."

She was staring at him, the boy that she usually couldn't help but adore, and felt nothing but revulsion. How could he torture Severus like this...not after Snape's conclusion the previous day...it was merely unbearable, seeing the boy sprawled out on the ground, trembling despite his pride, spitting out soap bubbles..."Leave him alone," she repeated, her voice deadly sharp.

James, ever the flirt, replied, "I will if you go out with me, Evans..."

She stared at him, her emotions swirling around inside her. Could it be only yesterday that she would have done anything for this opportunity? Only yesterday she would have jumped at this chance...but she expressed her utter contempt, truly scornful.

Snape had regained movement, and was silently standing up, his wand pointed at James, his arm shaking with fury and triumph. He concentrated on his perfect spell, one he had only used on himself up to this point, and watching with pure satisfaction as blood from his enemy's gashed face stained his robes...

Potter was bound to retaliate, of course. Severus found himself hanging upside down in midair, held up by his ankle, his robes falling down, revealing his pale, thin legs and greying underwear for the world to see.

The laughter and approval of the crowd meant nothing - he was used to their taunts. It was the utter disgust and anger and repulsion that these two arrogant bastards had the audacity to use his own spell again him, that these ever-so-noble Gryffindors were not at all above stealing spells and using them against their maker. But most of all, it was Lily's subconscious amusement that flashed across her face for a moment that made his blood boil. It was enough that she was so in love with his chief tormentor, but now Lily, the only person to ever defend him in situations like this, was laughing with the rest...

Lily and James resumed arguing below him, and in a moment he fell to the ground in a rumpled pile. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus..."

Snape stood up, trembling with fury, and met Lily's eyes with cold intensity. "I don't need help," he stated, his voice cruel and soft, "from filthy little Mudbloods like her."

His eyes grew wide as he saw her expression, knowing he had crossed the line, that their friendship would be eternally scarred. He began to speak but stopped himself, knowing he couldn't apologize here, not in front of all these people. And despite himself, he felt something akin to triumph as he watched her. It hurt her deeply, and this vengeance, though so wrong, was sweeter than he had imagined. No matter that he had recently been publicly humiliated, embarrassed, taunted - at the look on Lily Evans' face, he felt his lips curl into a sneer.

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Please review! 


	3. The Half Blood Prince

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 3 - The Half-Blood Prince_

**Spoilers and warnings: **This story is full of OotP and HBP spoilers. Just to let you know. This story is very angsty and quite dark, and it does contain suicide attempts, self-abuse, and eventually murder. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

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The end of the term seemed to go by more slowly than it ever had before. The fights between Severus and Potter's gang were more constant and often, oftentimes resulting in Potter and Black receiving detentions and Severus slithering his way out of trouble. He watched from the sidelines as Lily and James began dating in the last two weeks of the term, which made him even more willing than ever to hex Potter whenever he came within sight. The thoughts, regrets, and bitterness that followed Lily's rejection of him built up day by day, always growing stronger, taking over him...

It was the last week of school when Severus first seemed to truly meet Lucius Malfoy. Of course, he had noticed Malfoy before then - he was tall, gracefully, rich, popular, and the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, but Snape had never met him - Lucius was two years his senior and too popular to be seen with such an outcast as Severus.

But the last Monday of the year, everything changed. Snape and Potter had, as usual, been dueling in the corridors, and Lucius happened to be walking by on his way to the Great Hall. Severus had obviously caught James at a bad time - he had no Sirius, Peter or Remus to back him up, and it soon became apparent that the Slytherin had been practicing quite a bit since their last big encounter. Potter was practically at his mercy - he never was the greatest at defending himself from the Dark Arts, and his precious Transfiguration spells were of little use to him now. Snape also had the advantage of being a master of non-verbal spells, so his opponent didn't know how to block him most accurately.

Lucius stayed and watched the Gryffindor practically be cursed into a pulp, an amused smirk on his fair, pale face. When Snape performed the _Sectumsempra _spell on his enemy, Malfoy looked at him with a newfound respect and renewed interest. He knew then that this boy before him needed to be introduced to his...group of friends.

Later in the Slytherin Common Room, Malfoy approached him. "Snape, isn't it?" he asked casually, offering a pale, slender hand.

"Yes, Severus Snape," he replied, shaking his hand.

"Malfoy - Lucius Malfoy. I wondered if I may have a word with you, privately?"

Snape followed him up to the Seventh Year boys dormitory, feeling apprehensive and excited. They entered the dormitory, and Lucius threw himself carelessly into a chair beside his bed, motioning for Severus to do the same. "Now, you may wonder why I've brought you here, what I couldn't say to you in front of eveyone else." His voice was cool and drawling, the passion and intensity hidden beneath his nonchalant tone. "I saw you today, dueling with that Gryffindor idiot Potter."

"Yes...what about it?" he asked defensively.

"I was quite impressed," he said simply. Severus was taken aback - praise was a new concept for him. "You obviously have a large amount of knowledge of spells, and also apparent intuition and creativity. There was one spell you used," he continued, looking thoughtfully at Snape, "that I did not recognize the outcome of it...what was it?"

Severus looked at him, untrustingly for a moment, then murmered grudgingly, _"Sectumsempra."_

The older boy's brow furrowed. "I've never heard of it, and I must admit that I do know quite a bit of the...darker spells...where did you learn it?"

"I created it."

The other boy's eyes widened. "You created it? As a fifth year - you created your own working, legitiment spell?"

"Actually," he said quietly, "I created it two years ago...I perfected it last year...it works well."

"A thirteen-year-old wizard creating a spell like that," he said, sounding a little amazed. "I won't deny it - that shows truly exception talent. When I saw you dueling, I know that there was something unique about you...you are quite the genius, aren't you? Are you Pureblood?" he asked unexpectedly.

Severus was a bit taken aback by the question, and hated hearing his own answer. "Half," he replied bitterly. "My dear mum decided to ruin her bloodline with that Muggle I venture to call my father."

"Ah, I see," replied the other softly. "I take it, then, your mother was a Pureblood?"

"Yes."

"Her surname?"

"Prince." Here he lifted his head a little higher, obviously proud of his ancestry on his mother's side.

"Prince...I've heard the name. Formerly quite a predominant wizarding family, I believe. So really, you're the last in the line of Princes, in a way. The...Half-Blood Prince, if you will."

Severus felt a proud grin cross his face. The name was undeniably appealing.

"The reason I asked," continued Malfoy, "is because I would like to introduce you to some of my...friends. Normally we only accept the purest bloodlines, but I think they'd be willing to make an exception for you, with my recomendation, of course. After all, they say even our leader was Half-Blood - Muggle father and Pureblood mother."

"Who is the leader?" he asked, instantly curious.

"Surely, Snape, you have heard of him...his name is Lord Voldemort, though we call him the Dark Lord." He paused, smirking at the look of surprised shock on the other's face. "You have heard of him, I take it. You have undoubtably heard that he is 'evil.' One thing that the Dark Lord has taught me, Snape - good and evil are merely figments of idealists' imaginations - they do not exist in cold reality. The only thing that truly exists is power. And the Dark Lord has power...more than you've ever dreamed - power to spare, power that will be given to those he trusts...

"I have watched you from time to time over the years, Snape, and I see your lust for Power. Power will be granted to those who sere him...power to defeat your enemies, power to prove the world wrong...even, perhaps, power to gain the one you love."

Images of Lily swam before his eyes...if this master could gain him the woman he loved, then he would be willing to do whatever it took...Malfoy posed his quesiton, "What do you say, Snape?"

He paused, the thoughts of Lily and making her completely his still raging in his mind, and replied, "The Dark Lord has the service of...of the Half-Blood Prince."


	4. The Dark Lord's Command

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 4 - The Dark Lord's Command_

**Spoilers and warnings: **This story is full of OotP and HBP spoilers. Just to let you know. This story is very angsty and quite dark, and it does contain suicide attempts, self-abuse, and eventually murder. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

**A/N: **Please review this chapter, especially...it would mean a lot to me. This chapter was difficult to write and gave me a few headaches, but please tell me how you think it works.

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"My Lord, I have brought your new servant to you."

Lucius was down on his knee before the chair, which was facing the fireplace. "A new recruit?" asked a voice, cold and high.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Come here," said the voice, summoning Snape. He stepped hesistantly, and bowed on his knees before the armchair were Lucius Malfoy had been only minutes ago, and looked up at his new master...

The Dark Lord was a tall and slender man. His hair was dark, his eyes a glowing green, and his skin pale. He was perhaps thirty or forty years old, as a rough estimate, but his age was really rather vague - he seemed indefinite in age, without any true beginning or end. He radiated immediate severity, coldness, confidence, and power. His eyes were boring into Severus's, and he could feel the man's eyes on his very thoughts and memories.

"What is your name?"

"Severus Snape, my Lord," he replied.

"And you will serve me." It was not, in any way, a question.

"Yes, my Lord."

He was looking at him appraisingly, a steely look in his eyes. "You will prove yourself," he commanded.

Snape's brow furrowed - how was he to do this?

Lucius, however, seemed to understand perfectly. He looked shocked and concerned, and protested softly. "My Lord...Snape is still legally underage...if he is to do this, the Ministry could catch on, and then..."

He stopped at the look of disgust on his master's face. "Silence, Malfoy. Do you think Lord Voldemort has no servants in the Ministry? No one working on my commands shall be detected by the Ministry." He turned back to Severus. "And remember this - servants of the Dark Lord _do not get caught."_

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Snape apparated inside the poor, dust covered house. Apparating was, of course, entirely illegal for him, as well as generally dangerous, but it had not taken him long to learn. He looked around distainfully - it had been five years since he entered this house, and it had only gotten darker, messier, uglier. 

He walked into the den - now covered in dust and seemingly falling apart, but his imagination reconstructed the set. Here was the desk in the corner - many a times he had crouched between it and the wall, listening to her screaming because she was unwilling to even use a simple, non-harming jinx against him...

_The man in the center of the den, beating the woman senseless as Severus cried...once the woman was unconcsious, themanturned to him..._

_"Severus, are you crying?" he jeered, his voice cold and hateful as he laughed at his son..."How many times must I tell you, you little freak - you will not cry in front of me. Cry shows weakness. Are you weak, Severus?"_

_"No," the seven-year-old Severus said in breathy pants, trying to control his sobbing._

_The man was staring at him, purest loathing in his eyes. "You aren't? Because it sounds like you're still crying. Are you still crying, Severus?"_

_Severus couldn't reply - his voice would reveal too much..._

_The man struck him across the face. "Listen, you freak - it's bad enough that I have a damn warlock or whatever the hell you are in my family, but I will not have you be a coward! Do you understand me? No sodding son of mine will be a coward! Are you a coward, Severus?"_

_"N-no..."_

_He hit him again, harder. The world seemed to darken..."Are you a coward, Severus?"_

_Severus couldn't answer...he was rocking back and forth...he would not cry..._

_"Are you!" bellowed the man._

_Severus looked at him. "No."_

_The man sneered at him. "I think you are a coward..."_

_All the lights in the room went out, and a wind seemed to enter the room, although there was no window open. Severus was looking at his father, hatred and bitterness in his dark eyes. "Do not," he said, a small whirlwind taking control of the room as he burned with anger, "call me a coward."_

Snape brushed the thought away. He turned around, looked at the old couch in front of the television. There he sat, looking older, fatter and drunker than he ever had before. He held a beer bottle in his hand, and sneered up at his son. Severus was staring at his father with a strange gleam in his eyes. "I thought I told you five years ago never to come into this house ever again, boy," said Tobias Snape.

Severus laughed coldly and mirthlessly, his lip curling. "Actually, I believe I left."

The man's sneer had left his face - now there was mere hatred in his eyes. "Look at you...poofing in and outta the room...gross hair all long and in your face...wearing your lovely dress like all the rest of your freak sort...your mother would be so proud if she was alive to see you..."

The boy paled, staring at the man.

_"Please," she pleaded, sending herself into a coughing fit, "please, Toby...I need to see a doctor..."_

_"Hush, Eileen," he yelled, glaring down at the woman as she continued to cough, spitting out blood, "you're a witch, aren't you? If you're so all-powerful, you can save yourself from a little cold, can't you?"_

_The ten-year-old Severus was staring at his father. There was no way his mother could even consider casting a spell now...she was too sick to even leave bed, let alone try to save herself. He watched as his father refused to take her to a doctor, refused to buy her medicines...he watched as they lowered her body into the grave - Eileen Prince Snape, who died of tuberculosis..._

His father was laughing at him now, a drunken haze over his eyes. "So, you miss your dear old freak of a mother, do you?"

Severus didn't reply. His fist was wrapped tightly around his wand in his robe pocket.

"Are you ignoring me, boy? What, do you think you're better than me now, too good to answer your own father?"

"Why, yes, actually - I do," he smiled and whipped out his wand.

The man comtemplated the wand in his hand - but not for long.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

Snape turned to leave, his work finished, then, with sudden inspiration, turned back and look at the body at his feet. He pointed at the corpse with his wand and gave it a small upward flick..._"Levicorpus!"_ and the body was suspended in mid-air.


	5. Lessons in Intuition

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 5 - Lessons in Intuition_

**Spoilers and warnings: **This story is full of OotP and HBP spoilers. Just to let you know. This story is very angsty and quite dark, and it does contain suicide attempts, self-abuse, murder, and sexual situations. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

**A/N: **It's been ages since I updated, I know, but I'll try to be more regular with chapters from now on...life keeps getting in the way of my writing. Anyway, please review, etc.

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The news made the front page of the _Daily Prophet _- **HOGWARTS STUDENT'S MUGGLE FATHER FOUND DEAD.**

_**Severus Snape, a fifteen-year-old wizard and student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, returned to his home for the summer holidays yesterday at approximately 2:30 p.m. When he entered the house, however, he was met with a terrifying shock - his Muggle father, Tobias Snape, was suspended in the air, dead.**_

_**"I...I just walked in and there he was," a distraught Snape told us through his shocked sobs. "I'll never see my father again..."**_

**_When Snape arrived at the Ministry of Magic to report this terrible experience, several Aurors were immediately sent to evaluate the situation. When later questioned by the staff here at the _Prophet, _they grimly divulged that their worst fears had been realized._**

**_"The late Muggle indeed seems to have been killed by the _Avada Kedavra _curse," an anonymous Auror disclosed. "We cannot find any link to a wizard that would have personal reasons to commit this crime, so it is to be assumed that this is a yet another example of the Muggle-hatred that has been expressed by Dark wizards throughout history..."_**

Voldemort folded up the newspaper, allowing a slightly disturbing smile to enter his face as he looked at the boy before him. "An interesting thought, taking your story to the Ministry."

Snape shrugged. "Well, my Lord, it'd look rather suspicious if I came home, found my father dead, then just decided to not mention it, wouldn't it? And you're the one that told me that followers of the Dark Lord do not get caught."

"Oh, I am not reprimanding you - not by any means. It had originality, and quite some style to it. Groveling with your sob story to the Ministry to avoid suspicion...it was quite well done. You have undoubtably proved yourself, Snape...come here."

Severus stepped forward, suddenly shivering with anticipation and fear. He slowly pulled up his long robe sleeve on his left arm, staring at the pale, scarred skin, and held it out to his master. Voldemort put his wand to the cold flesh and whispered an incantation, causing the most terrible, burning, searing pain. He bit his lip in concentration, so much he tasted blood in his mouth - but if there was one lesson his father had taught him, it was that, no matter what the circumstance, a Snape did not cry...the pain was nearly unbearable now. He thought he would burst with one more minute of this agony...but then it was over.

He looked down at his arm - there were bright green flames glimmering on his skin in the pattern of a snake and skull. The flames died, and left in their place a burned mark on his arm...the Dark Mark.

* * *

A green jet was emitted from Snape's wand, and the other man fell dead. He gave the body the familiar upward flick of his wand and walked outside the door. He lifted his wand and said in a terrible voice, _"Mors Modre" _and gave a satisfied nod at the green design of light that floated above the house, then Disapparated. 

"Edgar Bones is dead, my Lord," he murmured, kneeling at his master's feet.

"Very well, Snape," he said. "I have your next assignment for you."

"Anything, my Lord," Snape said eagerly.

"Go back to Hogwarts."

Severus stared at him. "But please, sir...surely I am of more use to you here than learning pointless spells I've known for years...is it truly necessary..."

"Are you suggesting," said the other coldly, harshly, "that you know better than Lord Voldemort, Snape?"

"No, my Lord, I only thought..."

"Indeed. Well, you were wrong. You will be best of use to me at Hogwarts."

* * *

He slowly entered the train, reported to the Prefect's compartment for a few moments, where he narrowly avoided Lily. He looked for an empty compartment to sit in, and found, to his great annoyance, that there never was one. He hesitantly entered one that was filled other Slytherins who were in his year or near it. He sat away from the crowd, without a word of greeting to any of them, and they equally ignored his existence - even among his own house he was unpopular. He sat by the window and stared at the pouring rain outside as the train began to pick up speed, slowly and unknowingly rubbing his left forearm. 

The others in the compartment were socializing among each other, talking about their summers and various events. He ignored them, thinking of his own summer - he had murdered seven people in cold blood in the last two months...the screams were distinct in his mind. He didn't feel guilty...it was merely a memory, neither good nor bad. He felt simply unable to feel...

A girl was speaking in a harsh, but beautiful voice. "Please," she said haughtily, her eyebrow arched, "you really think that OWLs matter now? It's just a letter - it has nothing to do with real life. I got a D in Defense Against the Dark Arts, it was hilarious."

A boy across from her laughed. "How'd you manage that, Bella?"

"Oh, the practical segment of the test. I kept _messing up..._apparently they didn't appreciate me jinxing the old bats giving the exam with the spells I was supposed to be performing the countercurse to..."

The boys swooning around her laughed wholeheartedly, each trying to gain her attention. Severus focused his attention briefly on the girl - Bellatrix Black, the most popular girl among the boys at Hogwarts - mainly because she had slept with most of them. She _was _beautiful, that was undeniable - her hair was long, black and shiny, and her eyes held a consuming fire within them. She was as opposite from sweet Lily Evans as could be, and yet she was the only other girl Snape had ever felt himself attracted to.

She saw him looking at her. "Snape," she said, acknowledging him, "how was your summer?"

"Fabulous," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, as usual.

"Really?" Her lip curled. "I heard your father died."

"That's why it was fabulous, of course," he said, his eyebrows raised, saying it as though it were an obvious answer.

She grinned. "He was a Muggle, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, the world's better off, then, isn't it? Funny, really," she said, surveying him critically, "when the papers said your Muggle father was dead, I was surprised. You always seemed like such a Pureblood."

"Why, thank you," he said sardonically.

She was looking at him, her eyebrow arched. "Boys," she said, looking at the other occupants of the compartment, "leave us."

Looking disappointed, Avery, the Lestrange brothers, Rookwood, and Rosier all left the compartment, glaring jealously at Snape as though they wondered why Bellatrix had singled him out, of all the unlikely people.

She was staring at him surveyingly. "They say you've joined the Death Eaters."

His eyebrow shot up. "Who says?"

"My brother-in-law, Lucius Malfoy. He says that you joined the Dark Lord's forces over the summer, and that you've already proved yourself far beyond the expectations of a sixteen-year-old wizard."

"And you serve the Dark Lord as well?"

She proudly raised her left sleeve, a look of defiant triumph lighting her dark features. "Malfoy told me to speak to you. He said you knew a surprising amount of the Dark Arts."

"I do."

"You look guilty."

He stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"You look like you feel guilty about something...It's obvious you're new to killing. When you kill, it has to be ruthless - no remorse, no pity, because pity only brings guilt. You've not done anything but the Dark Lord's orders - you have nothing to feel guilty about. One thing I've learned, Snape - emotions are pointless, and they show weakness."

She was moving closer to him now. "It's better to act on feelings, act without thought or premeditation, merely do what seems natural..." She was much too close now... "It's better to merely..._do _whatever presents itself to you...to follow your intuition..."

Her small hands were moving up his chest as she spoke. He had her face between his hands, holding her roughly as they kissed. This girl he rarely talked to before, this girl he in no way trusted, was now snaking her sweet but rough tongue into his mouth, and he returned the favor. She was now straddling him, his hands exploring her shoulders and back. They were both nearly rid of their robes before Bellatrix grabbed her wand and created curtains for the windows of the compartment...

* * *

"You see," panted Bellatrix well over half an hour later, as she leaned her sweating, naked body against the walls of the small room, "now _that _is what I mean by following your intuition." 

Snape smirked, looking over at the girl beside him. "You're such a little whore, Bellatrix," he observed casually.

She snorted, looking at him mockingly. "I didn't see you complaining, Snape, unless," she put on a blissful face and moaned in a low, orgasmic voice, "_Oh yes...oh my God, more..._is a complaint."

He laughed - her imitation had been annoyingly accurate. "Oh, believe me, Bellatrix, I'm not complaining. I find it highly unlikely that any male would protest your - how shall I say it - lack of common morals."

"Indeed not," came her reply as she slipped blithely back into her robes, cleaning the compartment with a quick sweep of her wand.

He too got dressed as Bellatrix turned back to her, looking into his dark eyes. "But you get it now, don't you? Killing is quite like a quick and dirty shag, in essence - it has to be done on intuition, without regrets or fears. It really simplifies things to just get the highs of life while they last, you know?"

He nodded. Perhaps Bellatrix indeed had a point - what, he reasoned, is the point of thinking about unnecessary things?


	6. Spells and Potions

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 6 - Spells and Potions_

**Spoilers and warnings: **...oh, hell, I've spoiled and warned enough. Read the spoilers and warnings on previous chapters if you're that interested.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

**A/N: **Please, please, please review. I'm curious to see if anyone's interested in the story and if they like the direction it's going...thanks.

* * *

* * *

Severus sat behind the emerald green curtains of his four-poster bed, ignoring the noise caused by his roommates entering the dormitory. Wand in hand, he stared at his notes on a certain spell. He pointed his wand at his bare left arm, careful to cast the spell quite a bit above the sore forearm's tattoo of sorts, and said softly, "_Furnunculus._" Red, ugly boils appeared almost instantly upon his arm, and though they were large and would be painful if popped, they were little more than natural, easily-cured sores. He jerked the wand irritably above his arm, the flesh again becoming pale and smooth.

He stared at his notes on the spell and the textbook, sure that there was some way the spell could be more effective. The Dark Lord had commanded him to spend his time at school well, to learn as much as he could about the Dark Arts while there, and he intended to. He stared at the spell, an idea developing. He grabbed his dictionary of Latin and Latin-based languages, briefly found the words he needed, and again pushed up his sleeve. "_Furondium brullicius,_" he hissed. He cursed under his breath as he felt an enormous, agonizing pain beneath his skin, as though there were invisible flames inside his arm. Huge, breath-taking painful welts soon broke out across his arm, and he found himself staring almost fondly at his new masterpiece, before releasing the spell and writing notes about it within the margins of his second-hand Potions book.

The dark curtains were jerked back angrily from the outside, and Severus looked up to see his roommates - Evan Rosier, Rabastan Lestrange, Nathan Wilkes, and a very irate-looking Rodolphus Lestrange. Lestrange was a tall boy, brawny and dark - a Beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team and easily twice Snape's size. He grabbed Severus by the front of his robe angrily. "I don't know who the bloody hell you think you are, Snape," he snarled, "but from now on I'd advise you to stay away from Bella. She's my girlfriend, you see."

"Really?" asked Snape, his upper lip curling slightly. "I had no idea, she never mentioned it - but then again, talking wasn't exactly the focus of our...shall we say...encounter."

The other boy was reaching for his wand in his robes, but Severus's wand was already threateningly close to Rodolphus's face. "Please, Lestrange, I wouldn't want to have to hurt you, especially not on the same day I fucked your girlfriend...it hardly seems fair, does it?"

"Touch her again and you'll be sorry."

Snape snorted. "I have no intention of touching her again. I would rather...cherish the memory than watch her grow boring and predictable. Besides, it's not as though I need...or want her, for that matter. There's another girl I'll have, if it's the last thing I do." With a last scathing glance, Rodolphus stalked across the room.  
Rosier laughed. "Snape, I had no idea you were such a womanizer. Had I known, I would have respected you much more over the years." Snape looked at him, shaking his head slightly at the other boy's idiocy. "But you must tell us," he continued, "who this perfect lady you're so ardently determined to have."

Snape looked at them, smirking. "Only the best - Lily Evans, of course."

The others stared at him, unbelieving. "Come on, Snape," said Wilkes jeeringly, "we've roomed with you for the past five years, and, unless you're _very _conspicuous, you've never had a girlfriend. How exactly to plan to manage this feat of conquest with the most gorgeous girl in our year?"

Snape shrugged, returning to his bed and picking up his notes again, "Believe me, I'll find a way." He looked down at his potions book, flipping idly through it, until it landed open on page three hundred and ninety-four...the Polyjuice Potion.

* * *

It was the first official day of his sixth year, and Snape skipped breakfast as usual. He made his way to the dungeons, where his Potions class would be held. Slughorn was in there when he entered, and beamed at Snape. "A bit early this morning, Severus? Doesn't surprise me, of course, you never were the type to be late." 

Snape nodded in acknowledgment, setting down his books in a seat near the front. Slughorn cleared his throat softly, looking a bit unsure of what to say. "I heard about your father, my boy - I'm very sorry for your loss."

"I...er, I'd rather not talk about it, sir," said Snape, a look of pain and mixed emotions flooding his face. "I was wanting to talk to you, sir," he continued, "about a few potions. Over the summer, I was studying the origins of the Polyjuice Potion in depth, because I was interested in using it as a research topic for your class this year. I tried to make it, but I had trouble locating some of the ingredients, especially the bicorn horn and lacewing flies. I know we haven't studied the potion yet in class, but I was really wondering if you could perhaps lend me the materials so I could go on and get a head start on it."

Snape tried to look nonchalant, but his heart was pounding nervously. If Slughorn would just agree...

"Why, of course, Severus, help yourself! I'm always happy to help ambitious potioneers with your natural intuition," Snape felt himself twitch slightly at the word, "of course, I have to ask whether it's purely for research's sake..."

"Oh, of course, Professor," he said smoothly.

"Well then, I see no reason as to why you shouldn't extent your knowledge in this area. As a matter of fact, you can go on and get the materials now, if you'd like. You know where my storeroom is, I assume? The password's 'gillywater'...so you can go now and get whatever you need."

"But sir, I might be tardy to your class..."

"Don't worry about that, my boy," said Slughorn with a wink, and Snape sped off the storeroom, quite pleased with himself and deeply considering his possibilities as an actor.

* * *

He returned to the Potions classroom forty-five minutes later, fifteen minutes into the class. The students were stirring away at potions, adding this and that to the bubbling cauldrons. He looked around and saw, to both his delight and annoyance, that Lily Evans was sitting beside his desk. He walked over to where he had set his books, trying to avoid eye contact. 

"Severus," she said softly, her small hand resting on his shoulder. "Severus, I heard about your father. I was...I was so terribly sorry...I can't believe it...it must have been horrible for you."

He nodded. "It wasn't the best summer of my life," he said shortly, gathering his ingredients for the potion they were working on.

"And Severus," she said softly, "I wanted to apologize for...what happened last spring...all of it...I was being idiotic, Severus...the way I handled things between you and I and James...it was entirely disastrous."

"I see," he said, his face emotionless. "And are you still dating James?"

"Yes," she said faintly, blushing with what could have almost been shame.

"I see," he repeated. "Well, then, you can save your apologies, I have no real need for them. You see, I don't give a damn what you or that bastard do, Lily, and I doubt I ever will."

She looked away, her face burning red, and Snape went back to his cauldron bitterly, regretting the pain on Lily's face that he caused but burning with envious rage.


	7. The Polyjuice Potion

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 7 - The Polyjuice Potion_

**Spoilers and warnings: **...oh, hell, I've spoiled and warned enough. Read the spoilers and warnings on previous chapters if you're that interested.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

**A/N: **Please review! This is my second chapter in one day...I'm doing well, aren't I? Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

* * *

Severus slowly stirred the potion, careful not to overdo anything. The potion had to be perfect, he knew, or the plan would not work at all. He gently added the lacewings he had meticulously ground into its fine dust state. At last, the small bubbles burst into straight jets of dark steam, the potion's blue tint giving way to the muddy brown that showed it was done, save for one ingredient.

"I could have _sworn _Slughorn said that only a third of the amount of knotgrass you put in there was what you needed...didn't he say it took precisely one and a half skeins of knotgrass in?"

Snape irritably set his jaw, looking up at Rosier, who had insisted on accompanying Snape when he determined Snape's plan "officially evil and diabolical." He looked up at Rosier and sneered, "How exactly did you come by that bit of information, Rosier? In that brief span of time in between sleeping and writing notes in Slughorn's class?"

"Precisely. But you're ignoring the question. You put three times as much knotgrass as you needed."

"If you _must _know, increased amounts of knotgrass would make the potion's effects more long-lasting. The potion is only supposed to last for an hour; however, if you triple the amount of knotgrass, which, coincidentally, is the element of the potion that controls the life span of its working effects, then you would then have three hours, instead of one."

Rosier grinned. "Three whole hours to be with your precious Evans? Come on, Snape, that seems a bit far-fetched." Severus decidedly ignored him and continued working on the potion.

"But didn't Slughorn say..." Snape turned around and stared icily at his companion, hoping it would intimidate him - which it didn't. "Didn't he say that changing the ingredients of this potion could lead to an overdose that could either leave you partially transformed for the rest of your life or end up killing you?"

"Yes, he did say that. That _might_ just be why I put a third as much fluxweed in as called for, because fluxweed combined with high amounts of knotgrass can lead to the symptoms you just mentioned. Fluxweed serves no crucial purpose in the potion, other than to ease the uncomfortableness during the initial transformation into whoever you're becoming, which, by the way, is why I added the dried nettles, which were not called for in the directions."

"All right, that makes sense," said Rosier, after thinking on it for a while. "But why exactly..."

"Rosier, which one of us is actually good at potion-making...or, for that matter, even passing Potions?"

"You..."

"And who is Slughorn always saying is amazingly talented in revising potions to make them more effective?"

"You."

"And who is only in the Potions N.E.W.T. class because Slughorn finds him amusing?"

"Me."

"Exactly. Now, can you let _me _make the potion, please, without your obnoxious interruptions?"

"Of course," he replied in mock politeness.

"Good. Then the only other thing we need is a bit of Potter."

* * *

Snape and Rosier stood in the corridor outside the Gryffindor Common Room, just as Potter and his gang were walking towards the Great Hall. It was a perfect opportunity...James was lagging behind his friends by a few steps anyway, so they didn't notice when he stopped altogether, caught by a full Body-Bind spell. The other three Gryffindor boys walked ahead, around the corner, entirely clueless. 

Snape carelessly flicked his wand, releasing the spell. James spun around to face them, furious. "Look who it is, Snape," jeered Rosier maliciously, "the little Mudblood-lover..."

Rosier was jinxed before he could say another word, as ropes appeared from nowhere and bound him painfully. "Git," James muttered, glaring at him, before turning to Snape. "I should have known it was you, Snape, when I was first jinxed...no one else I know would be enough of a coward to try to duel with my back..."

Snape's cool composure broke instantaneously. "_Sectumsempra!" _he shouted, then again, and again, until Potter was keeled over, blood splashing everywhere. His face was ghostly white as he looked up at Severus. "Never," Snape hissed, a manical, mad gleam possessing his deep black eyes, "_never _call me a coward."

Snape looked at the boy in disgust and hatred as he passed out, before turning to where Rosier lay bound on the ground. With a flick of his wand, the ropes disappeared, and Rosier stood up. "So," he said, looking down at Potter's limp form, "shall I carry him back to the classroom?"

"No," said Severus, shaking slightly as he stared at the body and the blood draining from him. "No, I'll take him back. Go back to the common room, Rosier."

Severus watched as Rosier disappeared around the corner, then bound Potter's with a quick spell and levitated him swiftly through the hall and into the empty classroom that Slughorn had permitted him to use for his potion-brewing. Dropping Potter's body roughly on one of the desks, he yanked out a few of the messy black hairs from James' head and was a few moments away from depositing them into the potion. He looked at Potter, an idea forming.

Blood. Potter's face, hands, and robes were all soaking in his own blood. Technically speaking, it was illegal to use another human's blood in potions, but its results would be limitlessly more effective. With blood, the effects would last probably ten to twelve hours. He nervously went to James' body, still utterly unconscious, and pointed his wand at one of Potter's wounds and watched as the small pool of blood levitated across the room and mixed gently into the cauldron. His hands shook ever so slightly as he ladled a cupful of the potion into his goblet. He raised his glass sardonically to Potter's limp form and drained the class.

* * *

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were approaching him, looking concerned. Snape immediately put on his facade of Potter-like arrogance and conceit. 

"James, why weren't you at dinner?" asked Lupin. "We were worried - so was Lil."

Snape felt his heart lift in James' chest at the mention of the girl. "Er, I wasn't feeling well, so I went to sleep for a while. Sorry I didn't tell you...where's Peter, by the way?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Still pigging out in the Great Hall, of course."

Lupin, however, still looked concerned, his brow furrowed. "Are you all right and everything, James? Do you think you have a fever, d'you think? Or..."

"Moony, you're not his bloody mum, for Merlin's sake," drawled Black lazily. "Let him be."

They walked together through the corridor, Snape attempting to achieve Potter's normal, nonchalant walk, mastering the posture. "So," said Sirius, "what are we going to do tonight? I mean, we could always go find Snivellus, and amuse ourselves, but even that grows old after a while."

Snape felt his blood boil, but he let it pass, saying, "I would, but I'm going to hang out with Lily tonight...it's our four-month anniversary, you see."

Sirius looked at him in surprise. "It is?" Snape nodded. "Hmm...well then, James, have fun...though you didn't need me to tell you that, I'm sure," he added with a wink.

He laughed with them as they walked away, then the smile slid off his face. "Believe me," he muttered under his breath, "I will."


	8. Lily

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 8 - Lily_

**Spoilers and warnings: **...oh, hell, I've spoiled and warned enough. Read the spoilers and warnings on previous chapters if you're that interested.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

* * *

* * *

A determined Snape began his search for Lily and found her in her expected environment - the library. She was at a table, her head bent over a book she was intently reading. Snape stared at her, at the strand of auburn hair that had gracefully fallen into her face, at her fingers that gently drummed against the table...this could not actually be happening, could it? He forced himself into a cool composure, becoming one with that spirit of the enemy whose form he possessed. Now more than ever he must be James Potter.

He slowly approached her from behind, softly placing his hands on her graceful, sloping shoulders. He leaned down to her level and kissed her cheek, ever so sweetly and reverently. She smiled up at him, and said fondly, "Hey, sweetheart."

"Hello Lily," he breathed, internally staggering from the sheer power in her loving face.

She stared at him, an eyebrow cocked. "Something wrong?" she asked quizzically at his entranced expression.

"No," he answered quickly, regaining control. "It's just that...you look so beautiful tonight."

She blushed, looking down. He gently took her hand in the deft, muscular hands of James Potter. "Lily, would you join my for a wall around the grounds?"

* * *

"It's lovely out here," she remarked as they walked in silence near the edge of the lake. "I've never really been out here at night before." 

"I have," he muttered softly.

She looked at him. "James Potter, the midnight-walking star-gazer? I never would have guessed it."

Snape smiled, even if slightly bitterly, and looked away..._If only she knew..._

"Lil, come with me."

"Where?"

"The forest."

She took his hand and followed him until they reached a small clearing, lit with moonlight. "I come here sometimes, when I need to think or be alone," he confessed. He knew from the look in Lily's eyes that he was helping James rise in her esteem with every moment, but he couldn't help it...he was acting too much like himself, he knew, but anything that would inspire that look in her eyes was well worth risking his cover for.

"James, why have you never mentioned it before? I mean, of course I understand wanting a place all your own...but you could have at least mentioned it..."

"I wanted to tell you, Lily...but moreover, I wanted to bring you here, to show you this...I love this place more than any other, so I couldn't help but want to bring the girl I love here..."

Lily looked away from him, her eyes glistening. He felt slightly panicked - what had he done wrong?

"James...it's...it's just the first time you've told me that you loved me..."

Severus looked at her, forcing himself not to show anger. That arrogant, pompous idiot had never told Lily that he loved her? A girl like Lily deserved someone who not only loved her, but adored her, idolized her, put her on a pedestal, someone who understood her, knew her, and loved her as Severus did...

He caressed her face. "Lily, I _do _love you," he said softly.

"I love you too," came her whispered reply.

He tilted her perfect face up towards him and slowly lowered upon her lovely, perfect lips. The unimaginable sensation of the bliss inspired by her kiss coursed through his body, and he felt his defenses fall to the ground.

She pulled away, looking at him as though she couldn't understand it. "You're...you're different tonight, James."

"Really?" he asked, uncomfortable. "How so?"

"It's like you've abandoned your shield of bravado...like you're no longer trying to impress anyone. You're so...so gentle, so caring...I've never seen you like this before. You seem...changed."

"And is this change a good thing?" he asked nervously.

"Definitely," she replied. She gracefully sat down on the soft grass of the clearing, beckoning Snape to join her. He did, and sat for a moment, surveying the way she seemed to glow in the moonlight.

They kissed again, their passion building as he held her in his warm arms. Slowly their kisses and caresses began to migrate, heated hands removing too warm layers of clothing. The first several buttons of her white shirt were now unbuttoned, and he was shirtless above her, her hands running along his hot, smooth back. He began to plant burning kisses along her collarbone and continued down. She leaned back, her eyes closed in a blissful state.

His soft kisses became harder and demanding as he continued, both of them consumed in their passion. This was absolute perfection for them both...she could not help but softly moaning. "James," she breathed, her voice skipping...

He pulled himself away from her instantly, the name having a profound effect on him. He claimed to love Lily, but here he was, lying to her in the most terrible fashion, essentially close to raping her - she was willing now, but were she to find out his identity, he doubted she would be so compliant. The hard truth of the matter was coming to him now – Lily was kissing James, panting for James, and moaning for James...a distinctly nauseous feeling swept over him as he realized what he was doing to her.

"Lily, I..." But he knew he could not tell her, not now. "Lily, we need to get back to the castle," he said, his voice breaking with his uneven breath.

"James, why?" she asked, looking at him, trying to fathom his reasoning. "We have plenty of time...no one will miss us, we'll be..."

"Lily, no. Just...listen to me, all right? We need to go back now..."

Lily stared at him. Then she slowly and deliberately unbuttoned the remaining buttons of her shirt, letting the white fabric fall to the ground behind her, revealing perfect breasts within the red silk bra she wore. He sat there, staring at her perfect form, knowing he must stay resolute and not do anything regrettable but wanting to do any and every regrettable thing that was coursing through his mind at the moment. She put her arms around him, pressing her round, firm breasts on his thudding chest. "I love you," she whispered in his ear. "James, I'm ready...I want to."

He caressed her back and pushed her far enough away to softly kiss her cheek. "I love you too, Lily," he replied. He picked up her shirt and gently put it back on her, buttoning it up lovingly. "I love you too much for this. You might not understand, but someday you will, Lily. I love you...so much, darling." He kissed her again softly, barely brushing her lips with his own.

He quickly put his shirt, vest, and robe back on, wanting to get away as soon as he possibly could. She too was getting redressed, and they walked back to the castle in silence. When they reached the entrance of the school, however, she turned to him, breaking their muteness. "James, I just want to thank you. I...I must have seemed like a slut or something back there..."

"Not at all," he interrupted quickly. "No, don't think that, Lily."

"I just want to thank you for being the responsible, wise one tonight. I love you, James."

The same feeling of nausea resumed at the name, but he embraced her nonetheless, hating himself for all the night's events. "I love you too, Lily."

They walked hand in hand to the Gryffindor common room, where he quickly told her that he had something to attend to before he went in and hurriedly sped off. He ran to the deserted classroom where Potter lay, bound in an enchanted sleep, still covered in blood from their earlier encounter.

Snape looked in the mirror at his ultimate enemy, the man staring at him from the mirror, and drew his wand, murmuring, "_Exigo medicamentum." _He instantaneously became his former, less handsome self. He darted over to the side of the unconscious James, glaring down at him. "I hate you, James Potter," he spat at the unmoving form of the other boy, "but Lily loves you. She sure as hell shouldn't, and you'll probably hurt her terribly, but she loves you..."

He again took out his wand and slowly ran it over the wounds that he had inflicted on James earlier, watching as the open sores grew back together. A quick cleaning spell got rid of the dark, dried blood that covered the boy. Soon James was as good as new, without so much as a scar to suggest that he was ever injured. Snape held his wand to James' head and began the most complex memory charm he knew, transferring his own memories into James' mind. When James awoke, he would remember the night's events as if they had happened to him, with all justification that he himself would have provided.

Snape, carrying James beneath his Invisibility Cloak, quickly took him to the Common Room, and after he was sure that no one was there, laid James' body down on a large leather couch and left.

He returned to the classroom, not bothering to light a lamp. He sat down and buried his face in his hands, sobbing. The one opportunity he had to be close to the woman he loved, the one time to be with her as he would never again be, he thwarted for his sense of honor... It was better this way, he knew, but it was no comfort. He sat, alone, wishing only for the touch of her soft, small hands once more.

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**A/N: **Finally, an update! I know, I'm terribly unfaithful to this story. 

As a small note, I know that the whole part at the end with Snape changing back into himself with a spell may have seemed quite un-canon, because I know that it is supposed to wear off after a short amount of time. However, because of the changes in the potion that Severus made in the last chapter, the potion wouldn't wear off for quite a while, so Snape had a backup spell he could use to disable it. The spell, "exigo medicamentum," is merely Latin for something along the lines of "End the potion," literally translated. Thought I'd mention that, so I didn't seem absolutely crazy and anti-canon in my use of the Polyjuice.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed it and please review!


	9. The Assignment

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 9 - The Assignment_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

**A/N: **This chapter is quite short, which I'm sorry about, but I have several really good chapters in the near future of this that have already been written. I'll try to hurry the story on along, I just haven't had too much writing time lately. Hope you enjoy, and as always, I appreciate reviews!

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It had been nearly a month since the fiasco that incurred from Severus's Polyjuice potion plot, and Snape found himself more desperate to gain Lily's affection than ever. She herself had said that she preferred the "new James" much more than the real one, which revealed that she truly favored Snape's personality far above James'. Of course, it was all too strange and confused, and Severus knew that Lily could not soon know that it was really him.

But his mind was soon overrun with more urgent matters: the Dark Mark emblazoned on his left arm began to burn, and Severus knew that he had to go to the Death Eater's headquarters quickly. He went to Professor Slughorn immediately, explaining to him about a sick aunt who could possibly be dying. Slughorn wholeheartedly believed him, telling him that he would explain to Dumbledore, and allowed him to Floo out of the castle. Snape used Floo powder to get to the nearest fireplace in Hogsmeade, then Apparated to Voldemort's head quarters.

Lucius Malfoy was awaiting his arrival when Snape got there. "The Dark Lord wishes to speak to us, Snape," he said, a feverish light in his pale eyes. "They say he has a mission for us."

They walked together to the dark but luxurious parlor that Lord Voldemort inhabited. He sat in his large leather armchair, tall and pale. He spoke as they entered the room and knelt before him, his high, cold voice ringing. "Lucius, Severus...welcome, my most loyal Death Eaters. I have tasks for both of you, tasks that will prove crucial to our cause."

He turned and looked at Malfoy first. "Lucius, you are a master of persuasion. I have seen you at work, and your smooth tongue and convincing abilities are perfect for this mission. You are to recruit the Pureblood aristocracy to our cause, those of them that have not already joined us, anyway. All of them – the Blacks, the Prewetts, all the Pureblood families. It is essential that you get to them before Dumbledore convinces them with his dogmatic views of Mudblood and Pureblood equality.

"As for you, Severus, did I not tell you that you could serve me best at Hogwarts? You must get as close to Dumbledore as you can, and when the moment comes, you will confess and repent of your Death Eater ways...or make him believe you do. You are quite the actor, Snape, and Dumbledore's greatest weakness is his inability to see all sides of a person, including the 'bad,' as they label it. Dumbledore's a trusting old fool, and it will be more than easy for you to fool the dotard. Just put on a good show of repentance, and he will more than welcome you."

"Yes, my lord," murmured Snape softly.

"No one else will know that your repentance is not genuine, Severus, not even your fellow Death Eaters, besides Lucius, obviously. That is another reason why I'm assigning my role of spy to Dumbledore to you, Severus. You will possibly suffer persecution for 'abandoning' me by your fellow Death Eaters. But I trust your ability to defend yourself.

"Now, both of you go, and begin these tasks as soon as possible. Your work on these assignments could determine the outcome of this whole ordeal."


	10. The Potion's Aftermath

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 10 - The Potion's Aftermath_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to Harry Potter in any way. If I did, it would be called _Severus Snape and the Order of the Phoenix, Severus Snape and the Half-Blood Prince_, etc. So...yeah. Again, I really don't own it.

**A/N: **Hello, dear readers - if there are any. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please review it if your do (or if you don't, for a matter of fact). The next few chapters should be up fairly soon.

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Severus sat in the dormitory, contemplating this new command from the Dark Lord. He was to weave a twisted web of treachery, to become a double spy of sorts – it was dangerous, to say the least, but to fail to do the Dark Lord's wishes would undoubtably be more fatal. He glanced over at his room mates, wishing they would be quiet and let him think, but he knew they would never give him his much-needed peace.

He snuck out of the castle from one of his various secret passageways he had access to. He ran through the forest, heading for his small sanctuary of solitude, where he knew that he'd be able to concentrate and think things through logically.

But when he reached the clearing, he was greeted by a familiar sight.

"Hello, Severus," said Lily Evans calmly.

"Lily..." Snape began, his heart pounding, trying to decide the best way to avoid the truth of this place – but what if she already knew? "How did you know about..."

"I know, Severus," she replied, staring up at him, her expression hurt. "I knew that James was acting strangely, and I knew that something wasn't quite right. James didn't come to dinner that night, Severus, because he was feeling a bit sick – yet the James I encountered was perfectly healthy, and the James that awoke on the couch in the Common Room didn't remember feeling ill, either. He also didn't remember why he was in the Common Room instead of his dorm. But our discussion of the Polyjuice Potion with Slughorn last week, when you just looked around guilty through the whole class, was probably the most enlightening of all. The only thing I had trouble figuring out was I'm sure that we were together more than hour that night, and the potion is only supposed to work for an hour, but then again, you are Severus Snape, the brilliant potioneer, aren't you? I'm sure you just made adjustments to improve the formula." She was looking at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Lily...Lily, I'm sorry. I must have been out of my mind to even consider doing what I did...well, and what I almost did...Lily, I love you."

The silence that hung in the air between them was extremely heavy and laden. She looked at him with an expression of disgust on her perfect face. "No, Severus," she said, her voice low and halting with anger, "that is _not _love. You can't use love as an excuse to lie to me and use me for your own sick pleasure, Snape...it won't work."

"Oh, and Saint Potter has nothing on his mind when he's snogging you but your personality, of course? The fact that you have the best body of anyone in this school could never have anything to do with his affections..."

"You know nothing about me and James' relationship, Snape!" she cried shrilly, her temper rising. "James is loving, protective, honorable, brave, handsome, and honest – everything that you're not, Snape."

The words stung him more painfully than had she slapped him across the face. Of course, she had all reason to say that, but...He gulped and replied, "You can insult me in whatever way you see fit, Lily, but you can't deny that there was a connection between you and I that has never existed between you and your Potter bastard. Even you acknowledged it – before offering yourself to me completely. Lily, if I was just using you for 'my own sick pleasure,' would I have refused you when I desperately wanted to take you then and there, again and again? Damn it, Lily, I do love you, and some day I swear I'll prove it. But please...don't bother about me. Go seek refuge in the arms of your loving, protective, honorable, brave, handsome, honorable boyfriend – I came here to be alone."

She made to leave, looking at him, but then stopped, not turning around to face him. "I...I didn't even consider that, Severus," she said in a small voice. She turned to face him. "It was unfair of me to jump to conclusions. Thank you...most boys in your situation would have taken advantage of it to its fullest, but you..."

"So, I go from being the scum of the earth to on the same level as your perfectly honorable boyfriend?" he asked bitterly. "Come on, Lily, make up your mind."

She seemed to truly be struggling internally. "There was something there, between us, Severus, and I did noticed it...my God, how could I help but notice it? It was...almost powerful enough to make me think that I could have loved you."

It was immediately obvious that she had not meant to say it, but the damage had been done. She quietly walked back to where he stood and softly kissed his cheek before she ran back to castle.


	11. Jumping to Conclusions

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 11 - Jumping to Conclusions_

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Severus wandered the corridors of the school aimlessly, desperately trying to collect his thoughts. Lily had kissed – on the cheek, yes, but she had kissed him nonetheless. _I could have loved you..._her voice rang through his ears as meandered around the castle, no matter that it was well past time the students were supposed to be in bed. He was a prefect, after all, so he could easily get away with it.

He heard raised voices in a corridor nearby and quietly lurked, eavesdropping in on the conversation.

"Well then, if I'm overreacting, Lily, why don't you just explain what you were doing with Snivellus in the middle of the forest at eleven o'clock at night?"

"What right do you have to accuse me, James Potter?" her voice rang angrily. "I did not cheat on you with _Severus, _nor with anyone else. Never speak to me that way ever again, Potter."

"Well, what was I supposed to think, Lil?" James asked desperately. "That you and Snape were working on a homework project in a secluded area in the middle of the night?"

"It doesn't matter what we were doing, James. What does matter is that you don't trust me."

"But it does matter what you were doing, Lily! You're my girlfriend, for God's sake! I have a right to know. If you're going to be with anybody in the middle of the night, shouldn't it be with me? Am I just supposed to drop it and let it be? I really...I really like you, Lily, and I don't want to see you go..."

"You 'really like' me?" she asked, her voice wavering. "Do you love me, James?"

"Do I...Lily, come on, stay on the subject..."

"Do you love me, James?"

He looked at her, a scared, confused look on his handsome face. He was silent for a moment, before he softly answered, "I believe I do, Lily. I love you."

She softly kissed him. "I love you too, James," she whispered back. "Now, do you trust me?"

He nodded, a soft smile on his lips as he embraced her. "I trust you, Lil...sorry I just jumped to conclusions about it...and besides, if you were to cheat on me with anyone, I should have known that it would never be Snape – God, anyone that's actually _seen _him would have known better." He laughed harshly.

Lily withdrew from his arms. "Don't talk about Severus like that, James...he's never done anything to you..."

James sighed, exasperated. "What is your fascination with the little git? Why do you always defend him?" She didn't answer, looking away. "So, now that I'm not jumping to any conclusions, Lily, would you please explain the reason you were in the woods in the middle of the night with Severus Snape?"

"I...I wanted to be alone, James. I needed to think about some things. And I happened to run into Severus out there, who was apparently trying to be alone and think, too. So we talked for a while, just chatting, and then I left. Is that so hard to believe, sweetheart?"

"No," said James slightly sulkily, "but Lil, be careful around him, all right? The boy is up to his big nose in the Dark Arts, to say the least, and he's always watching you, with that hungry look. I...I don't want him to try to do anything to you, Lily. He's absolutely obsessed with you, and if you encourage him...I just want you to be safe, all right?"

She smiled faintly. "Thanks for your concern, James, but I'll be fine. Don't worry about me..."

The two began walking away, towards the Gryffindor Common Room, hand in hand. Snape bitterly watched them as they walked, talking and laughing flirtatiously. _One day, that pompous air-headed git will pay,_ Severus vowed, _if it's the last thing I do._


	12. The Spy

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 12 - The Spy_

**A/N: **Well, a new update, hope you like the chapter...please review!

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Severus sat in a small corner of the library, desperately wishing that the year would hurry up and end. It was the middle of May, and there was less than two weeks of school left, but he could barely wait for it to be over. As soon as school ended, he could get away from this living hell of rejection and shame and return to his master. Once he began to serve the Dark Lord more completely, he was sure he would feel alive once more.

"Severus..." came a voice.

He looked up to see Lily Evans standing before him, looking down at where he sat nervously. "Lily," he acknowledged her curtly. They hadn't truly spoken in a good six months, not since their last encounter in the woods.

"Severus, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry if I've hurt you in any way, because that was never my intent at all. I'm sorry if I lead you on in the past and made you believe that there could be something between us. I just...needed to tell you that anything that ever was or ever could be between us is gone now, Severus. I'm in love with James, and that is not going to change."

"You've told me nothing I didn't already know, Lily," he replied, his expression blank and unreadable. "Did you think me naive enough to harbor childish hopes about us when you've avoided me since you kissed me? Leave me."

"Severus, let me finish..."

"God damn you, Lily," he growled, his cool indifference shattering, "leave me now. Get the bloody hell away from me."

She did not hesitate in obeying him this time. He stared after her retreating form and muttered bitterly, "You'll pay for that, Mudblood."

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Dumbledore stood, looking at the assembled students in the Great Hall. He began to speak, saying the normal End-of-Term announcement and sentiments that Snape didn't think worthy to listen to. He sat, ignoring the glares he was receiving from James Potter with a slightly smug nonchalance. 

"Now, I need all of your undivided attention, and listen closely – this is quite serious." Snape looked at the old wizard, bored but somewhat attentive.

"As you all know, Hogwarts has always been a place of learning, experience, and acceptance to all those with magical abilities, no matter the so-called 'purity' of their bloodline. We believe that it is within the witch or wizard that the talent comes from, not from their ancestry. There are, however, those who feel differently. That is how it has been for centuries – there are always those who accept 'Pure-bloods' above the Half-bloods and Muggle-borns. However, there has been a new uprising of these 'purists' who have been acting against the 'impure' bloodlines with a vengeance. They go by the name of Death Eaters, and are led by an exceptionally power Dark wizard who calls himself Lord Voldemort. You may think this has nothing to do with you, but I want to caution you. Many of the Pure-blood and some Half-blood wizards and witches among you will be approached by Death Eaters and pressured to join them. I wish to tell you, to ask, to beg you not to join them. There are those who will fight against them, and if you are to join a side, there is no better cause now than to fight the injustice served by these Death Eaters. Thank you all, and have a good summer holiday."

With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore dismissed them, and Severus could not believe his luck. The opportune moment had presented itself to him, the moment to do the Dark Lord's wishes and 'join' Dumbledore's side. He took a deep breath and hesitantly walked to the staff's table at the front of the room, where Dumbledore sat.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said, his voice wavering slightly, "I need to speak to you."

Dumbledore was looking at him with his keen, sparkling blue eyes. "All right, Severus. Come with me to my office."

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"Professor Dumbledore," Severus began, sitting uncomfortably in the headmaster's office, "I have...a confession I need to make." 

"Go on, Severus," said Dumbledore politely as Snape paused.

"You spoke of Lord...Lord Voldemort earlier, and how he is likely to try to recruit us. Last summer, I was approached by one of his Death Eaters, and I...I didn't know what they were like, Professor. They were appealing, and persuasive – and..." He angrily pulled up his left sleeve, showing the Dark Mark bitterly. "I joined them. It's only recently that I've seen them for what they really are...Professor, they kill. And they expect me to kill, too...I need to get out of it. I want to join you against them."

Dumbledore was surveying him, trying to determine his motivations. It was somewhat obvious that he didn't wholeheartedly trust Snape, but Severus was determined to do this task. He shut his mind, as he taught himself to do in his second year, and forced only the thoughts that he wished for Dumbledore to see to the front of his mind. Occlumency was his speciality, no doubt about it...

"Professor," he said suddenly, breaking the silence, "perhaps...perhaps it would be best if I were to spy on Voldemort for you. If I maintained my cover as a Death Eater, would I not be more useful? Bring down the enemy from inside?"

Dumbledore looked at him again, a sadden wrinkle on his brow. "Yes, I think that would be best. But Severus, you must realize the danger you are putting yourself in. You would still have to perform any tasks he assigned you, if you wished to keep your cover, and if he ever discovered, we would do all we could to protect you, but it may not be enough. Do you wish to anyway? Think, first..."

He paused. "Yes, Professor. I will spy on the Dark Lord for you."


	13. She Will Be Spared

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 13 - She Will Be Spared_

**A/N: **Here's a new chapter for you all as a Christmas present from me. Honestly, I'd REALLY appreciate reviews on this chapter, because I'm really just not sure of its quality, and I really love constructive criticism. Thanks and happy holidays!

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"And Dumbledore trusts you now?"

"Completely, my Lord. The tip-off on Rosier and his father gained his trust – I suppose he thought if I could 'betray' my friend because he is a Death Eater, then I must truly be on his side."

"The old fool," Voldemort laughed haughtily. "He is unwilling to sacrifice others for the sake of his noble cause – it is one of his deepest weaknesses – so he cannot see how anyone else would. You have served me well, Severus, well indeed. I knew to expect great things from you, and you have proved me right. Return to Dumbledore, and find out the remaining members of their so-called 'order.' Does he still not allow you to meet with the other members?"

"No, my Lord. He says it will be safer for me if they do not know who I am, because there is less chance of you discovering my 'duality'," he laughed cruelly.

"Well, you can discover them without being present at the meetings, I trust. In particular, find out about the younger members – the ones your age or near it. They will be undoubtably easy to dispose of."

"Yes, my lord."

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"So, Snape," drawled the blonde man lazily, "what ever happened with you and Evans?" 

Severus looked up at Lucius, glaring darkly. "Where'd you hear about that, Malfoy?"

"Please, I have connections at Hogwarts," he grinned. "Did you ever...accomplish your goal with her?"

Snape shook his head bitterly. "Good," replied Malfoy darkly. "She's a Mudblood, Snape – she's below us."

"The little bitch," Severus muttered, knowing how petty he sounded.

Malfoy laughed. "There's the spirit," he jeered. "But you'll be graduating soon, won't you?"

"Yes, only five more months. But I've got to leave and get back there – Christmas break's over tomorrow."

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Snape approached Dumbledore's office, his blank, emotionless mask once again coating his face. Playing the headmaster's lap-dog spy was undeniably annoying to him, but he unwillingly acknowledge that it was crucial for his master's plot. 

He muttered the password to the office and was about to enter, until he heard voices from within. Intrigued, Severus silently snuck into the small antechamber that led into the office, listening to the conversation between the headmaster and the two students across from him – Lily Evans and the current speaker, Remus Lupin.

"Sir, do you really think it's wise, though, to trust Snape, of all people in the Order?"

Dumbledore sighed, looking sad and resigned. "No, Remus," he said heavily. "It isn't wise in the slightest. Severus seems...too indifferent, too cold, too careless with our cause to truly seem as though his allegiances are with us."

"But surely, Professor," Lily entreated imploringly, "surely you don't think that he is serving Voldemort?"

"He has served him in the past," he replied darkly, "I have seen his mark, and though I hate to assume the worst of the boy, I cannot believe that he has left him completely. For one, I highly doubt that Severus would be alive now, were he to truly serve the Order – Voldemort would have found out, it seems." He stared off sadly into space for a few moments, before continuing.

"That is why I have called the two of you here today. I need one or both of you to tail him, to discover all you can about his allegiances. Lily, I know that Severus looks up to you greatly and thinks of you affectionately. Perhaps if you..."

"No, Professor," she said firmly. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't."

Dumbledore looked at her with his piercing blue eyes. "Very well, Miss Evans, I understand. Now, you, Remus: out of all the members of the Order that go to Hogwarts – most of which are Gryffindors, I might add – I just feel that Snape would trust you above any of the others, especially over James or Sirius. Remus, I know that it is far too much to ask – but will you consider it?"

The boy looked uncertain. "I...I don't know, Professor. Snape's never opened up to me – why should he? I'm the best friend of his two worst enemies...it just seems like...I'll try, Professor Dumbledore."

"Thank you, Remus," Dumbledore said, his eyes radiating gentle approval. "Now, if you two will excuse me..."

Snape did not stay to hear any more. So, his brilliant plan had failed miserably. Dumbledore didn't trust him in the slightest bit, which made him essentially useless in his position as spy. _Of course, _he thought bitterly, _it makes sense now – why Dumbledore never allows me in their meetings, why none of the other members know I'm on their side..._

His mind was spinning. He merely had to convince that bloody werewolf that he was on their side, and then everything would be as it should be.

The next few months were hell for Severus. Not only did he have to speak to Lupin on a regular basis, he also had to be relatively civil to him, which was torturously difficult for him. By the end of the year, however, Lupin was fairly convince of Snape's innocence and told Dumbledore so. The headmaster was still wary around him, but he did accept Severus as a member of the Order as he had not before.

It was nearly March of his seventh year before Snape was able to see his lord again. Called away on during a Hogsmeade weekend, Voldemort wished to check Severus' progress.

"Things...did not go as well as I had anticipated, my lord. Dumbledore was suspicious of me, and he sent one of the Order members to spy on me."

Voldemort was staring at him with a cold, unblinking gaze. "And did you fix it, Severus?"

"Yes, my lord," hastening Snape, shuddering at the look in those chilling green eyes. "I played the part convincingly enough to fool the spy. I was too careless before...I am much more cautious now."

The intensity of the eyes still bored into him. "Severus, do you remember what I told you when we first met?"

Snape was trembling at this side of his master he had never before seen. "You said that servants of Lord V...Voldemort do not get caught, my lord."

"Indeed," he replied. "You have, up till this point, been a most valuable servant to me, Snape. Do no fail me again, or suffer my...displeasure."

Snape nodded, unable to speak.

"You did, I hope, do my bidding from our last meeting? Who is involved with this Order of the Phoenix?"

Snape forced himself to regain his composure. "Outside of Hogwarts, there is Alastor Moody, Caradoc Dearborn, the McKinnons, and the Prewetts. At Hogwarts, a lot of the teachers, but especially McGonagall...in the students, there's Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Frank Longbottom, Remus Lupin, and..." He cut off.

"More?"

"N...no, my lord. Those are all I think of." Snape was trying to close his mind from the penetration of Legilimency, but the image of a beautiful girl with thick red hair kept flooding his mind...

"Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Severus. Who is the redheaded girl?"

Severus closed his eyes. "Lily Evans," he rasped out unwillingly.

Voldemort was surveying him. "Serve me faithfully, Severus," he whispered. "Serve me well, and if you do well enough, she will be spared."

"Do you promise?" he found himself asking, not caring how dangerous a question it was.

"I swear. Serve me well, Snape, and the girl will be spared."


	14. What Have I Done?

**Bitterly Unrequited **

_Chapter 14 - "What Have I Done?"_

**A/N:** All right, just for the record, this chapter has recently had a severe re-writing. So please, please read it, or the rest of the story might not make sense.

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Snape sat in the Hog's Head pub a little over two years later, drinking a Firewhiskey as he brooded in the corner, staring at the Daily Prophet. There, in the corner of page eight, below the advertisement for Flourish and Blotts, was a small moving photograph. There, hand in hand, was a happy couple at their wedding, the young witch absolutely stunning in her wedding dress, the boy kissing the girl sweetly on the cheek. Below the picture was a small announcement that the wedding of James Potter and Lily (Evans) Potter had taken place a little over a week ago. Of course, he had known beforehand – as a member of the Order, in some respects, he knew. But seeing it in print finalized it completely.

"Bring me another Firewhiskey," he muttered to a passing barmaid.

She turned to him, hey eyebrow raised. "Isn't seven enough for one night?"

"Just bring it," he snarled.

She shrugged and came back a few minutes later, handing him his bottle and sitting across from him without invitation. "Broken heart?" she asked sympathetically.

"Get the hell away from me," he said, taking a large drink. The girl got up, offended, and walked away. Snape looked up and clumsily hexed her retreating form, murmuring in a slurred voice, "Annoying bitch."

He sat alone, only nineteen years old, the murderer of over ten people, a double spy, a liar, a cheat, and a lonely boy that hated the world. He reread the small announcement for the thousandth time, and his mind began to work as much as it could with the severe alcohol buzz. James, he recalled, was working with the Order tonight...

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Severus apparated into the small bedroom in the cottage, lurking in the shadows. He saw Lily enter, not noticing him. She was alone, as he knew she would be...Three years ago, he had sworn he would find another chance with Lily, and he would not spoil it when that time came. Here and now, he thought hazily – this was his opportune moment. 

Lily was preparing to go to bed, obviously. She began to take off her shirt, about to change into her night clothes, when Snape spoke, the words slightly slurred and dangerous. "Beautiful as ever, Lily," he said, his voice low and full of desire.

She spun around to face him, clutching her shirt to her. "Severus, what are you doing here?" He merely looked at her, lust clearly radiating from him. "Severus, don't look at me like that," she said, avoiding his eyes. "I'm a married woman now."

"Ah yes, of course," he sneered, "you're Lily Potter now, aren't you?"

She was staring at him, fear and disgust combined in her face. "You're drunk, Severus. Leave."

"Do you remember our sixth year at Hogwarts, Lily? You know, that night when you blatantly begged me to take you, then and there?" She was blushing furiously at the memory. "Of course, I was under the effects of the Polyjuice Potion that night, and yet you noticed a difference in between the real James and I. A difference in the way we talked, touched, and kissed...and you preferred my way. Do you remember? Of course, that was only a few heated teenage kisses then. But you've grown up, Lily, and so have I." He was approaching her like a predator stalking its prey, dangerous as never before, a mad gleam in his black eyes. "Let's see, Lily, if you prefer the more adult me as well?"

She was slowly stepping backwards, her eyes full of fear and something he couldn't quite identify. He sneered at her, laughing cruelly and drunkenly. "We'll see," he said, and with that he grabbed her wrists painfully and shoved her up against the wall. He pressed his mouth to her's, hard, his tongue invading her mouth angrily. He pulled away, panting bitterly, "Does James kiss you like that, Lily?"

She pushed him away, turning away quickly. "Leave, Severus, please."

He smirked at her, grabbing her by the waist and holding her close to him. "But you don't really want me to go, do you?" he asked, his lips at her neck.

She swallowed hard, trying to pull away from him iron-firm grip. "Let me go, Snape," she said softly, not looking at him. "When James comes home..."

"James isn't coming home tonight, he's out playing Dumbledore's lapdog," he replied instantly. "Stop trying to lie your way out of it."

"Don't do this, please...I love him, Severus." Her eyes were pleading, and he pushed her away.

He looked at her coldly. "And I love you, Lily," he whispered. "But you hurt me...you might as well have killed me. It's only fair that I should return the favor."

A single tear made its way down her face. "I never meant to hurt you, Severus."

"But you did," he replied, his face stony and cold.

* * *

He awoke the next morning, his head throbbing painfully, wondering vaguely where exactly he was. He looked over to the other side of the bed and saw Lily, who was awake, crying softly. He frantically attempted to remember what exactly he had done to her the night before, but all the details seemed to be missing...not that it mattered: he could tell exactly what happened just seeing Lily sobbing beside him in bed, completely naked except for the sheet she clung to herself. He felt the nauseous sensation of purest self-loathing flood him as he quickly stumbled off the bed, throwing his robes on as he stared at her in horror. "Oh...oh my god, Lily...what have I done?" he choked out quietly before Apparating away despite her protests, tears stinging his own face as he felt an overwhelming guilt like nothing he had ever experienced in his life. 


	15. A Snape Does Not Cry

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 15 - A Snape Does Not Cry_

**A/N: **I hope you all enjoy this chapter – it was extremely difficult for me to write, and I'm only about 60 happy with it, honestly. Please review it, it'd mean a lot to me. On another note, wow, I have over 1000 hits on this story! That's extremely exciting...of course, it means only 1 of the readers are reviewing, but hey. So, here's the chapter.

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Severus stared at his reflection in the mirror, feeling nothing but the utmost misery. Could it have only been fours years ago since the last time he looked in the mirror like this, heartbroken by Lily's rejection? It seemed at least a lifetime ago. He was so innocent then – he was a troublemaker, yes, to be sure, but he had never committed actual crimes at that point. He had not had the ideal life, even then, an abused, withdrawing child, but compared to his life now, it seemed like a heavenly dream. In those beautiful, gleaming days of naive childhood, he was not a thief, not a liar, not a spy, not a drinker, not a murderer, not a heartless, sadistic man who could torture for pleasure...

Not a rapist.

The word echoes through his mind, a condemning accusation which he wished with all his heart that he could deny. Lily's voice, Lily's face, Lily's screams, Lily's pleading eyes...all of it clattered through his head, never giving him more than a few second's peace. He tried to block out the guilty, but it would not work – nothing did.

He turned again towards the mirror, surveying himself critically as he always did as a child and adolescent. He was still just as pale, scrawny, and unhealthy, although he had gained a few inches to his height over the last few years. He essentially looked just as he had as a fifteen-year-old loner, but now his face was lined with cares and worries far beyond his nineteen years.

He rolled up his robe's sleeve. There, on the pale, thin arms, was written the story of his life, in scares. The oldest witnesses were the marks still there from his father's nightly beatings and attacks. On his forearm was the Dark Mark, his brand of servitude to an abusive and deranged lord. Near his shoulder was a fresh scratch which he received from a frantic, escape-driven Lily the night before. But dominating his arms in number and in depth were the self-inflicted wounds from his early teenage years.

Without even consciously acknowledging it, Snape had drawn his wand and held it on his arm automatically. He tried to convince himself to logical – there was no point in reverting back to his adolescent melodrama. But if only he could bleed away the guilt.

He took a breath and murmured _"Sectumsempra," _the familiar sensation of splitting flesh consuming him as he watched the beautiful red river again run down his arm...

* * *

Snape sat at his table in the dining room of Spinner's End on Halloween night, 1981, now twenty-one years old. He sat reading the _Daily Prophet _darkly, attempting not to think of his deeds of the previous night. He had been with the Death Eater's raid of the homes of many Order members, and he shuddered to think of his murderers...He shook away the thoughts, knowing it would do no good to contemplate it. 

Lucius apparated into the room, looking pale, disheveled, and wide-eyed. Severus stood up immediately and strode to the other man. "Lucius, what happened? What's..."

"He's dead, Severus," Malfoy rasped, his voice halting and panicked. "The Dark Lord is dead."

Snape stared at him, unable to comprehend his comrade's word. "What do you mean, dead?" he asked, confused and shocked. "But...Lucius, how?"

"The prophecy, Severus...the prophecy you heard and reported to the Dark Lord. Son of parents who defied him three times...born in July...all of it. The Dark Lord went to kill this child tonight." He paused. "The child was Lily's son, Severus – Harry Potter."

Snape felt his heart seem to stop inside his chest. "Is...is...he...is she..."

"He went to kill the kid. He killed James first, trying to get to the boy...then he went to kill Harry...Lily was trying to protect him, and the Dark Lord killed her too..."

Snape was silent, unable to think or feel anything but the flooding sensation of the cold, drowning news. Lucius continued talking, and Severus became numbly aware of the fact that Harry had somehow survived and Voldemort had died...

_He said he would spare her. He swore to me that if I served him well, that I never failed him, he would spare her life for my sake. I could have joined Dumbledore's side ages ago, as I wanted to...but I couldn't, because he might kill Lily...my God, Lily's gone..._

"Leave me, Lucius," Snape whispered dangerously.

"Snape, don't you understand? The Dark Lord is dead, and the Aurors and members of the Order will be hunting us down! They'll throw us in Azkaban or let the Dementors have us, Snape! We have to run, now. He's not here to protect us anymore..."

"He never was to begin with," Snape muttered.

"Snape, I'm not joking...we need to get out of..."

"Leave me, Malfoy, now."

"Fine, Severus. Enjoy your stay in Azkaban, then..." And with that, Lucius disapparated.

Severus stared at the walls, the ceilings, anything and everything. _Lily is dead...what does escaping matter now? _He clutched his arms to him, his body and soul cold. The last time he had seen her was two years ago, seeing her naked, trembling form, hating himself with a vengeance, and he knew now that that image would never leave him, that this would be his strongest memory of Lily...

It was his fault she died. He had overheard the prophecy that led Voldemort to Harry, and he had reported it to his lord like a faithful Death Eater. Had he not mentioned it, Lily would be alive now. He felt a tear slip down his face, and he angrily wiped it away, trying to force himself to stop crying...

Within an instant, memories consumed his mind at random...

_His mother was tucking him in as a very small child... "Go to sleep, Severus...I won't let him hurt you, dearest..." _

_Voldemort was looking down at him, that intense light in his eyes..."Serve me well, Severus, and the girl will be spared..."_

_He softly said, "Avada Kedavra!" and watched the life drain from the small girl's eyes as he left the McKinnon house, conjuring the Dark Mark..._

"_It was almost powerful enough to make me think that I could have loved you..." Lily leaned down and kissed his cheek..._

_He sat, painstakingly brewing the Polyjuice Potion..._

_He was staring in a mirror, gazing fondly at his own blood pooling around him..._

"_I just needed to tell you that anything that ever was or ever could be between is gone now, Severus..."_

"_Now that," Bellatrix panted, "is what I consider following your intuition..."_

_"Severus, are you crying?" the man jeered, his voice cold and hateful as he laughed at his son..."How many times must I tell you, you little freak - you will not cry in front of me. Crying shows weakness. Are you weak, Severus?"_

His father's voice echoed relentlessly in his mind, and the tears continued to stream. "No!" he screamed, rocking back and forth, digging his fingernails into his arms in concentration, "Crying shows weakness. Crying shows weakness. A Snape does not cry. I will not cry...I will...not...I am not weak..."

He stood up, wiping away his tears. "Crying is weakness, and I am not weak. A Snape does not cry."


	16. Trust Me, Severus

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 16 - Trust Me, Severus_

**A/N: **Well, here we are to this chapter, this crucial chapter. I wrote this section of the story about six months ago, before I started this story – it inspired me to write this. So, I'm happy to present it to you. Enjoy and review.

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Dumbledore entered his office, only to see that he was not alone. "Ah, Mr. Snape," he said softly. "To what do I own this particular pleasure?"

Snape turned to face the headmaster, who quickly took in the shrunken, starved frame and the black circles beneath the yong man's eyes, "Please, Professor Dumbledore," he whispered, his voice hoarse, "please kill me."

Dumbledore was surveying him calmly. "I do not by any means wish to do that, Severus."

"You don't know what I've done," he replied, a maniacal gleam entering his dark eyes.

"Oh, I'm quite aware of a surprising amount of it. I know that you murdered your own father, who was a Muggle, in order to prove yourself to Lord Voldemort as well as to feed your own need for vengeance. I know that you had shed another's blood before you turned sixteen years old. I know that you have served your master faithfully, even when you were 'spying on him' for me. I know that you are to be blamed for the death of Edgar Bones, Benjy Fenwick, and countless other members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"You don't understand," he interrupted, desperate to reveal all to the headmaster. "You don't understand. I killed them, and now they're getting their revenge."

Dumbledore stared at him, looking disconcerted for the first time that evening. "What do you mean, Severus?"

"They're here," he replied simply. "They can't be ghosts, because anyone can see a ghost...not just one person. They're just...always here." He shuddered, staring at an empty spot before the fireplace. "She's always there," he said quietly. He stroked the air gently. "But shh...you'll wake her. She's sleeping, you see."

"Who is she, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, forcing a calm, conversational tone.

"Her name is Lydia McKinnon," he said softly, not tearing his eyes away from the spot. Dumbledore gasped...he had known that the McKinnons were dead, but..."She's only seven, you know. She saw Malfoy kill her parents, but Lucius was in a hurry and told me to finish the little girl. Watching her parents die put her in a state of shock, I suppose – she didn't understand what was happening. She thought I was her father...she ran and hugged me and asked me what happened. I told her that everything was all right, that she should go to sleep. I carried her to her bed, and she went to sleep almost instantly. And then I...I killed her."

"Severus," said Dumbledore softly as Snape continued to caress the memory of the dead child, "how long has it been since you've eaten or slept?"

"Two and a half weeks," he said, still gazing fondly at the invisible girl. "She had red hair, you know. Pretty auburn curls. Just like Lily."

Dumbledore stared at him. "Lily...Severus, did you..."

"Yes," he said simply, looking up at the headmaster. "I overheard the prophecy that imbecile Trelawney made...or part of it, anyway. I took the information to the Dark Lord. I...I didn't think about it, Dumbledore – I've refrained from thinking for the past five years. It makes the life of a killer easier. I...I didn't realize that it was talking about Lily's child...I never would have let him harm Lily's child...and her child isn't harmed, of course." He was staring at an empty space by the door. "But she's dead, Dumbledore – Lily's dead, and it's completely my fault."

A tear was streaming down his drawn, sleep-deprived face. "I loved her," he whispered, "I loved her and she's gone. Everyone leaves. She never loved me...she gave the feelings that should have been mine to that insufferable prat, Potter. She betrayed me...I wasn't good enough for her. I tried to make her love me. I tried to force her – I did force her, but even then she didn't love me. James Potter would never love her the way I loved her...but she refused to see it. She pitied me and feared me...but she never loved me."

"Severus, did you rape Lily Evans?"

A terrible look consumed his face, a mixture between a triumphant grin and a grimace. "No," he replied, "I raped Lily _Potter._

"It was nearly two years ago. Lily, of course, never told anyone, for her own sake, I suppose. But I wanted to make her pay; she hurt me more than anyone, so it was only fair. She had been married for a few weeks and I was drunk beyond belief...

"A month later, everyone was discussing it...Lily Potter was pregnant. I prayed, Dumbledore – every night I prayed that it was mine. If she had my child, she would have to love me, wouldn't she? For her child's sake, if not for her own...

"But the boy was born, and his father was obvious at a glance. Potter had triumphed again. I went numb after that, more numb that I was beforehand. I reported the prophecy to the Dark Lord as soon as I heard it...my God, Dumbledore, if I had known...if...I could never leave the Dark Lord, Professor...he promised me that if I served him well, he would spare Lily. I had no choice. I wanted to leave him, but I had to stay for Lily's sake."

Snape looked off, still and silent. "They are going to lock me in Azkaban now, aren't they? It doesn't matter. But...Professor, will you do me a small favor?"

Dumbledore nodded slightly, staring at the pitiful man before him.

"When they take me...ask them to let the Dementors have me. Please, I would much rather it be over than endure Azkaban..."

"No," he interrupted finally, placing his hands gently on Snape's shoulders and making him turn to look him in the eyes. "Severus, trust me. I will take care of this if I can – I will do all I can to keep you out of Azkaban."

Snape was staring at him, uncomprehending. "But why would you?" he asked blankly. "Have you not heard all that I told you? I don't deserve another living moment. Death seems almost too good for me now. I don't deserve..."

"Stay here at Hogwarts, Severus," he said. "Stay here for a while, and I will protect you. Trust me, Severus."


	17. Not Guilty

**Bitterly Unrequited**

_Chapter 17 - Not Guilty_

**A/N: **You know, I was 100 sure that this story was dead, and I wasn't going to attempt to finish it...but then, last night, I was struck with inspiration, and so here I am.Crazy, I know. First of all...there are MAJOR bits of stuff beign rewritten on this story right now, especially **CHAPTER 14,**the rape scene, just because I reread it and I really didn't like the way I wrote it. So please, if you plan on continuing this story, do yourself a favor and reread chapter 14, otherwise the ending won't make as much sense. Also, review! Seriously, I will write like crazy if I think anyone's reading it. Thanks, and enojy this long-overdue chapter.

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He shuddered, pulling his robes around his thin frame tighter in an attempt to keep out the surrounding cold. He began coughing violently as a single Dementor passed slowly by the cell, his lungs feeling as thought they were completely frozen as snapshots of his life and echoing voices filled his mind, forcing him to relive his worst memories. He faced the wall, his frail, skeletal body shivering.

"They can't keep us here that much longer," came a voice from the opposite side of the cell. Lucius Malfoy, too, had seen better days – his pale skin was nearly grey from bad health and the filth of the prison, and his once-blonde hair was pure white. "They have to give us a trial...they can't just leave us to rot here without legitimate proof."

Severus looked at him wearily. "They'll find proof easily enough, Malfoy. If we do get a trial, we'll be convicted in a heartbeat anyway."

Lucius shook his head, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. "Speak for yourself, Snape," he said with a small sneer, "but the Ministry's only interested in one thing...gold. And I've got gold to spare. They won't find any evidence on me, once we reach an agreement."

Snape simply observed him stoically. Lucius continued, his expression almost panicked. "The Dark Lord was a great leader," he said softly, "and if there was any hope in his livelihood, I would search for him to the ends of the earth. But he's dead, and it won't do anyone any good for me to rot away in Azkaban. But...he's _dead, _Snape," he whispered, as though he couldn't quite grasp the thought. "Who would have imagined that one so strong could be destroyed by such a small creature..."

"Lily's child," Severus murmured to himself. "Little Harry Potter." He spat out the last name with utmost contempt.

"Oh, come off it," Lucius said scornfully, glaring at Snape with an unpredictable look of hate. "Don't start babbling about your dead love when you're awake, too. The Mudblood bitch rejected you, for God's sake. Accept it."

Snape sat still, feeling the anger well up inside him, until he quickly lashed out, pinning Lucius to the wall of the cell, his thin fingers latched around the other man's neck. "Never speak of Lily like that again," he growled threateningly.

Malfoy continued to scoff. "It's pathetic," he said with a struggle. "I damn well can't sleep at night because you're always moaning in your sleep about _Lily, Lily, oh god, Lily, what have I done?_" Lucius pushed Snape away from him and adjusted his robe, sighing softly. "How're you going to get out of here, Snape?" he asked quietly. "You have no family, no connections, no money..."

"You are, as ever, the epitome of tact," Severus sneered. "Thank you so much for rubbing it in."

He did, however, begin to contemplate the question. Dumbledore had told him that he was safe, that he would take care of it, but he had been in Azkaban for three weeks now without a word from the headmaster. They had taken him away from his safe place at Hogwarts and thrown him in the prison to wait for his trial, but when would that be? And what good would it do, anyway? All evidence was against him...and even if it wasn't...well, Lily was still gone.

* * *

Less than a week later, however, Severus stood before the Wizengamot, surveying each witch and wizard slowly as the courtroom buzzed with talking. Sitting in the very center of panel of Dumbledore, looking as serene and calm as ever, if a little more solemn than usual.

The court was soon called to order, and an elderly wizard who was sitting beside Dumbledore began to speak. "The Wizengamot will now hear Case Number 569, Severus Snape. Mr. Snape is hereby accused of being in close association with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, serving him as a sworn Death Eater, and being at least partially responsible for the death of the MicKinnons, the Prewetts, Benjy Fenwick, and Tobias Snape, among others. Mr. Snape, you have heard the charges against you. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?"

Severus took a breath, preparing himself to resign to a lifetime in Azkaban instead of begging shameless to no avail, as many of his former companions had done. He opened his mouth to confess until a lighter voice range out, "Severus Snape is not guilty of the crimes of which he has been accused."

Every eye in the courtroom was focused solely on Dumbledore, who was still very calm. The wizard who had read out the charges was looking at him in confusion. "Albus, what do you mean?"

"Allow me to explain," Dumbledore answered courteously. "Severus did indeed swear an oath of loyalty to Voldemort," he ignored the collective shudder, "when he was fifteen years old, and he is responsible for the murder of Tobias Snape. However, ever since his sixth year at Hogwarts, Severus has helped the Order a great deal, feeding us inside information from Voldemort himself." Snape was staring at Dumbledore, who was blatantly lying on his behalf. Surely the headmaster knew that he had _never _given the Order a single bit of true, helpful information when he was "spying" on the Dark Lord...but Dumbledore continued on. "He did not have a part in the murder of the Order members you mentioned, although he could not prevent them for fear of blowing his most useful cover." The headmaster turned to look at his colleagues directly, almost pleading with them. "Severus is twenty-one years old," he said softly, "and his life has not been a pleasant one. Please do not punish him for crimes he did not commit."

The members of the Wizengamot spoke together for a few moments before a young witch turned to Dumbledore. "You vouch for him, then?"

"Wholeheartedly," Albus replied immediately. "I trust Severus Snape."

"Then," said the wizard who had read out the charges, "the Wizengamot declares Severus Snape cleared of all charges."

"Ah, very good," said Dumbledore pleasantly, standing up. "Now, if you could be so kind as to release Mr. Snape...thank you. Severus, if I could have a word?"

People began filing out of the courtroom, taking this to mean that the trial was over. Snape approached Dumbledore warily, still somewhat shocked.

"Now, if you would join me in my office for a few moments, I wish to discuss your future."

Snape followed him to the fireplace and used the Floo network to arrive in the office, where the headmaster was already sitting behind his desk, waiting for him."

"If you would care a have a seat," the older man said, creating a comfortable armchair with a flick of his wand and motioning for Severus to sit there.

"You lied to them," he said softly.

"Yes, I'm afraid I rather did."

"Why?"

"Because your life was at stake, Severus," Dumbledore said, his pale blue eyes shining brightly. "I believe everything you told me last month, that you really did stay with Voldemort in hopes of saving Lily, not just because you were afraid to leave. I also happen to believe that you're a good man, Severus."

Snape snorted derisively. "Oh, I'm very good, I'm sure."

"You've made terrible choices, admittedly, but underneath it, I have faith in you, and I feel that you have some large part to play in our ongoing battle against evil."

"But Professor, the Dark Lord is dead," he said, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean, ongoing?"

"Voldemort has vanished, yes – but I fear he is not gone for good. And even so, my dear boy, the fight against evil is in no way over. With the victory over any such great dark wizard, it seems that another just as terrible appears." Dumbledore sighed, a shadow of weariness passing over his face. "But all matters of good and evil aside, I find myself in a bit of a dilemma. Professor Slughorn, it seems, has had enough of teaching, and I am short a Potions teacher." He was looking at Severus intently. "You are still very young...only three years out of school yourself! But if you agree, you have a home and a post here at Hogwarts. Please consider it...you are far too gifted not to share your talents with others."

Snape sat silently for a moment. "Is it not also true, sir, that you also have a Defense Against the Dark Arts post available?"

Dumbledore's face grew visibly darker. "It is true."

"Please, Professor...I could teach the students things they would never begin to imagine...I'm more experience in this field, as you well know, than any other applicant you could find..."

"No, Severus. It is too close to you right now. Perhaps someday you will teach Defense...but not this year."

He nodded, slightly bitter. "Yes, Professor."

"Will you accept the Potions post?"

He nodded again. "Gladly."


End file.
